


Night.

by wordsinthedark (VanScritto)



Series: Hidden. [3]
Category: Formula E RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 15:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19402999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanScritto/pseuds/wordsinthedark
Summary: It's fine.It should be fine.But it's not, because Loreneknows.---This is it, André thinks. This is the moment she will end him. She has the power to do it, and he's given her all the reasons. And yet, when she steps closer, her face doesn't give away that kind of intention.





	Night.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zeraparker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeraparker/gifts).



> As always, for my lovely zeraparker, who knows all the reasons why.
> 
> I don't know how I went from "oh, I have this idea for a porn-ish one-shot" to "let's make a three-parter out of this shit and think about it for weeks!". But here we are and here they are and I hope y'all enjoy.

_It's fine._

There's a sort of tired giddyness that hangs over them as they get settled in the restaurant in Paris. André instantly regrets it when he's maneuvered to sit next to Jev. Why didn't he just drive home with Takako and his mother? Because Jev had asked and when he'd declined, Lorene had pulled the Charlie card and _for fuck's sake_ this kid is going to get him into some serious trouble one day, he just knows it. He has a soft spot for the girl, and her insisting she'd be allowed to sit next to him makes up for the agony of having Jev's body heat seeping into André from the other side.

 _Maybe you should come home and sleep_ , Takako had suggested. He'd asked her to come to the dinner, too, but she'd just smiled and shaken her head like that was enough of an explanation. Sitting here now, searching through the menu to decide on dessert, he wonders if he was being an asshole for not pushing the issue, for not asking her to elaborate on her reasons. He wonders if anyone else at the table thinks he's an asshole for letting his girlfriend drive his mother home when he stays in Paris to celebrate a race he didn't even win. It's these little things that don't come naturally to André when they seem to do for everyone else, and he hates it.

There are so many people here now, with Roman and Lorene and Carl and _Charlie_ of all people, that André doesn't need Takako as his private human shield to protect him from his weakness. He doesn't even _mind_ that she's not here and maybe that, too, makes him an asshole.

Still, this whole thing, the dinner, the race, the company, the restaurant — it could be fucking fine.

But it's not, because Lorene _knows_.

Okay, maybe that is not a confirmed fact. She hasn't talked to André about it, hasn't slapped his face for fucking her boyfriend, hasn't taken Charlie away from him for fear of him being a bad influence. He has nothing to go on, except for the way she looks whenever Jev talks to him. André catches her eye now behind Jev's back who's laughing at something he hasn't really paid attention to. Lorene holds his gaze and licks her bottom lip in a seemingly normal gesture.

Oh God, he's being paranoid, isn't he?

He's so afraid, fucking _terrified_ of being caught, having all of his sins and depravities uncovered, that he's making up stories in his head again. Because the only way that Lorene would know is if Jev had _told_ her and that can't possibly be the case. What Jev and he shared was special, a _one time_ kind of thing, sacred even. He wouldn't have told Lorene, would he? The thought alone fills André with a sudden bolt of jealousy and rage. _Betrayal_.

It's unfair, of course, considering André had told Takako pretty much the second she'd stepped into the motorhome. But that's different, he tells himself, because Takako can read him like a book, she knows everything there is to know and then some — and really, there was no way she wouldn't somehow _know_ about this, too, even if he hadn't told her. Takako doesn't fucking count.

Charlie leans into André as the lights dim down and he can't help but stroke her hair as she lets out yawn after yawn after yawn. It's easy to keep his hands and mind preoccupied with the child who so innocently adores him and giggles every time he feeds her dessert and touches her nose with the spoon. It's distracting, another ache entirely, one that has nothing to do with Jev or the way he so delicately makes sure not to brush up against André tonight.

Post-race adrenaline crashes are a bitch.

***

André ends up carrying Charlie home. It's a good thing, too, because this way he can't keep an eye on Lorene and Jev several steps behind him, giggling and dancing down the street, arms around each other and Jev nuzzling Lorene's neck every so often. Okay, he can keep maybe half an eye on that, just to punish himself for not making the smart choice and listening to Takako. He should really start doing that. He's going to text her later to tell her.

The girl doesn't wake when he puts her down onto the mattress in the guest bedroom Jev has dubbed _hers_ , but she snores softly and adorably and André can't help but stare at her sleeping form for another moment or two. He doesn't want to risk this, he suddenly realizes. It's only been a few months, but Charlie has somehow wormed her way into his heart in a way no other child has and she's tied to Lorene, to the one woman André should probably hate because she has everything André wants, but he can't bring himself to.

 _Once_ , he thinks as he puts the blanket over Charlie, still dressed in her clothes of the day. _Once was enough_.

***

The Parisian air breezes into the bedroom André sleeps in. Somewhere down the street a car honks loud enough to shake him awake. His head is fuzzy, and he doesn't want to check the time, but it's still dark out, so it's not time to get up yet. As he lies there, in the sheets smelling of Jev's laundry detergent, trying desperately to will himself back to sleep, he hears footsteps in the hall.

 _Charlie_ , is his first thought. The steps stop in front of his door instead of going down the hall to her mother's bedroom.

Mesmerized, André watches as the door handle to his bedroom moves. There's no knock, no rasping and when the door opens, it's not Charlie that steps through.

The steps were too heavy for her tiny form to begin with.

"You're awake." It's not a question, but André nods anyway. Lorene is standing by the door, her nightgown shimmering the dim light of the streets below.

This is it, André thinks. This is the moment she will end him. She has the power to do it, and he's given her all the reasons. And yet, when she steps closer, her face doesn't give away that kind of intention. He scoots over on the bed, away from her. The sheets fall to his middle when he sits up, and she drops on the mattress to face him.

There's that look again that he remembers from earlier and there she is, licking her bottom lip. Completely normal, if not for the fact that it is the middle of the night and she is in his bedroom instead of her own, next to Jev.

"You're good with her," she whispers. "Thank you."

"She makes it easy," André deflects.

"You're good with him, too." She smiles. "Everyone can see that. He lights up around you, he relaxes. It makes me happy to know that he has you."

André doesn't know what to say to that. A nasty thought fills his head that he was with Jev _before_ her, that she has no right to say something that cheesy to him like she's been waiting for him to show up in Jev's life. No, André has occupied a space in Jev's heart for such a long time that _he_ should be saying this to _her_.

A breeze wafts through the window and moves Lorene's nightgown, making one of the straps fall off her shoulder. She doesn't make a move to set it right.

"Does he make you happy?" She asks, reaching a hand out to touch his where he's set them in his lap. "Does he make you relax?"

"Yes," he finds himself admitting, even though recently, that hasn't been the truth. Jev's been setting him on edge since Berlin, since Monaco, and maybe even before that, but back then he was able to push it all into a dark corner in his mind. But Jev unleashed something that André will have trouble roping back in and it doesn't make him _relax_ at all. Lorene frowns, like she can tell what he's thinking.

"I want to see," she whispers and then she moves towards André, kissing him on the cheek and he's too dumbstruck to move. "He wants to touch you. I want to see."

André shivers, involuntarily swaying away from her just in time to see the door move closed behind her. And then Jev is in the room, by the door, watching him. Watching _them_.

"It's okay, André. I know," Lorene whispers into his ear, her breath ghosting over his skin.

"Once," he chokes out, too quiet for Jev to hear and Lorene giggles a little.

"Did you really believe that?"

She moves again, scooting closer and shuffling to sit down next to him so they're both facing Jev, who is wearing nothing but his boxer briefs in the warm summer night.

"I can't," Jev says, sounding almost pained. "I can't stay away. Don't make me. Please." Next to André, Lorene hums in agreement.

It's two against one, simple as that. Even if he wanted to say no, even if his convictions weren't as solid as butter in the sun, even if he could manage to rebuild this wall between Jev and himself, he couldn't possibly be expected to win against them both.

Lorene's fingers still rest on his, stroking his skin gently and then she's facing him, one leg drawn to her body in a way that makes the nightgown ride up and André isn't entirely sure that's just for Jev's benefit. He's been with women before, he appreciates the way they look and how impossibly _easy_ it can be with them. The thought crosses his mind, unbidden, and he immediately regrets it because if Jev is off limits for him then Lorene is even more so, especially since nothing with her could ever be _easy_ to begin with.

Then again, having them both in his bedroom in the middle of the night, clearly suggesting _something_ is the farthest thing from _easy_ he could possibly think of.

"Can he touch you?" Lorene asks and André finds himself releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. This is so delicate, Jev's hungry eyes, Lorene's butterfly touches and André half-asleep state of mind, that he doesn't dare speak out loud.

Instead, he nods.

Jev peels himself from the door, slowly making his way to the foot of the bed where he kneels on the mattress. He crawls the rest of the way until he leans over André on all fours, holding is weight on one hand beside André's hips. With the other he touches André's jaw ever so slightly.

Another breath is released from André's mouth as Jev strokes the stubble on his chin and then up towards his lips. It feels like a dream, like Monaco all over again — an outer body experience that he can only follow and not oppose. Not that he would want to oppose when he has Jev looking at him like he's the sun, the moon and the stars all wrapped up into one person; like Jev can't quite believe he's allowed to do this.

André can't quite believe it either, but there's Lorene's voice again, gentle and quiet, whispering _kiss him_ and then Jev's lips are on his, tongue licking at his skin. The angle is awkward, with Jev having to hover over him and Lorene appears to agree, because she's whispering again — instructions that André's brain doesn't seem to register until Jev is moving away, grabbing his legs and pulling him down the mattress. Lorene crawls behind André, cradling his upper body between her thighs, making her nightgown ride up so far that he can feel only her skin against his shoulders. She grabs his hands, interlinks their fingers together and then tips his head back with one hand so that he doesn't have a choice but to look up at her.

She smiles, so full of … _warmth_ that it takes his breath away again. The strap of her nightgown is still askew, the fabric dragged down by his body and exposing more of her flesh. André can make out the tip of her nipple, reminding him of how thin the ice is that he's somehow maneuvered himself on. Lorene bends down towards him, presses her lips to his for a second. "Is this okay?"

He finds himself nodding ever so slightly, and she does it again, holding him in a warm embrace just as another breeze hits the room. Or no, not a breeze, André realizes hazily, Jev's breath on his chest, moving upwards towards the kiss, pressing his lips to André's neck.

"I want to suck you," Jev murmurs into André's ear, making him shiver. Not _Do you want me to suck you?_ "I want to make you come." His lips move over André's skin, leaving wet trails and little bites, and when they finally reach his mouth, Lorene is still there somehow and then they're both kissing André in a way that completely knocks all sense of reality out of him.

Jev straddles his thighs now, effectively trapping André between himself and Lorene. It's so much skin, so much contact _everywhere_ that André doesn't know what to do with himself. But again, Lorene seems to read his mind.

"Don't move," she whispers and strokes his cheek with one hand that is still intertwined with his. She places his hands on her thighs, the soft skin such a stark contrast to Jev's body on top of his. He understands the silent instruction to keep his hands there while her now free fingers play over his shoulders towards his hair. She strokes him gently and Jev watches them, mouth half open. When he catches André's glance, he smiles. Wickedly.

Jev keeps his eyes trained on André's as he bends down to lick at the skin of his chest, lower, circling a nipple and eliciting a gasp from André. André is half expecting Jev to tell him to _behave_ , but Jev stays quiet, only the twinkle of his eyes telling how much he must enjoy hearing that sound. The way Jev is straddling him, André can clearly feel the bulge of Jev's erection and tries to move his body to accommodate it. But Jev only raises his hips when he does and then shakes his head.

"I want to do this right," he says quietly. "If you want to touch someone, touch her." He nods towards Lorene who giggles at that and spreads her legs a little wider and … _oh_ that really is only her skin that André is feeling. Wet, soft skin rubbing on him and making her gasp a little.

Something tickles André's head and when he looks back at Lorene, her nightgown has slipped down entirely, leaving her tits exposed, nipples hard. It's too much too fast, he thinks, when the sheets are pulled away from him, the heat of Jev's body moving along his. There's no stopping this now, and even if he wanted to, words are an elusive concept now for André, his senses overwhelmed with the way Lorene and Jev are touching him.

Jev is mouthing at his hipbone a moment later, teeth biting the cotton-covered skin. He's so close to André's dick, already hard and needy, exactly what Jev supposedly wanted, but for all of his eagerness he does appear to have all the time in the world now that Lorene is holding André, kissing his hair, forcing André to divide his attention between the two.

He jumps when Jev kisses his dick, a curse slipping from his lips that Lorene catches in a giggle. Her fingers stroke him gently, and then she presses her mouth to his again. The sensation of the cotton dragged down his legs seems heightened, surreal even. André can feel the hands, the skin, the lips, but he can't seem to manage a conscious movement of his own. He is trapped in Lorene's embrace which, if he were to give it rational thought, he could easily break. He could just reach out and touch Jev, let his hands roam through his hair and move his hips to give Jev's frantic movements some kind of direction. But the notion escapes him.

 _This is a dream_ , he thinks and is reminded of weeks ago on a yacht, a time in his life that seems really distant now, like it couldn't fit into this timeline of his life. Jev's mouth on André's back then felt just as surreal as Lorene's mouth on him now.

"He told me what he did to you after the Berlin disaster," Lorene whispers into his mouth, her voice serving as an anchor to the here and now. The words should scare André, and they do, but whatever fear seeps through the cracks of him, she just kisses away. "I told him he was an asshole."

André can feel Jev's indignated huff against his skin, but if he wanted to protest, he's shushed by a motion Lorene makes with her hand. Wordlessly, he goes back to licking André's hips, drawing circles on his skin, closer and closer to the center, as if not quite daring to actually lick André's dick now that the underwear is gone.

A whine collects at the back of André's throat and he bucks his hips, trying to get Jev to do _something_. His skin is itching, the warmth of the bodies surrounding him suddenly rushing in like pins and needles. Lorene's gentle kisses to his lips and her hands stroking his hair are the only thing keeping him calm, keeping him _in place_.

"He's being an asshole now, too, isn't he?" She giggles a little. "He can see how much pain you're in and yet, he's taking his damn time. Maybe he's trying to punish me as well."

"Why would he punish you?"

"Because I told him that he had to make you come first." He sees her glancing downwards and whatever looks she's giving Jev it finally, _finally_ , prompts him to put his mouth on André's dick. His hips snap up, breath caught in his throat, his grip on Lorene tightening. She doesn't seem to mind.

Jev licks a long line from the base to the tip of André's dick, fingers curled loosely around the erection. If memory serves André correctly, he's mimicking what André did mere days ago, licking and dragging the tip of his tongue over the tip of André's dick. It's delicious and it's painful at the same time. Not enough pressure, not enough to do with his hands. He wants to touch, grope, push and pull. But what had Jev said?

_If you want to touch someone, touch her._

And so André does, running his hand up Lorene's arm to her shoulder and then softly to the back of her neck. The next time she drops her lips to his in one of those butterfly touches, he greets her with the tip of his tongue and the surprised gasp that she lets out goes right to his core. _Could be a bad sign_ , something in his head says, but then, on the next kiss, she licks into his mouth.

It should feel wrong. Everything about this, from Lorene's tongue in his mouth, to his teeth on her lips, to the way her legs are angled that every movement of his upper body results in friction on her clit, something André is made all too aware of in the form of her slickness — it should all feel incredibly wrong. Something within André is still waiting for it all to come crashing down, for him to _wake up_ , but for now, nothing is stopping Jev from mouthing at his dick in a way that almost mimics the movement of Lorene's tongue in his mouth.

And nothing is stopping him from finally sucking André into his mouth.

"Fuck." The word escapes André before he can swallow it and he can feel it echoing between Lorene's lips. She lifts her head from his and the sudden loss of the distraction, of _something to do_ , heightens all the sensations of Jev and his mouth.

Jev has crawled between André's legs, he notices now, and somewhere along the way he also lost his own boxer briefs, because André can clearly make out his naked ass even in the dim light. He tries hard not to focus on it, on the promise of having it right there. Instead, he watches Jev's head, eagerly bobbing up and down as he sucks on André's dick, his eyes staring towards _them_ , towards Lorene, and it's a strange thought, that suddenly crosses his mind: _She wants this, too._

Lorene is whispering again, encouragements maybe, not directed towards André — and even if they were, he wouldn't be able to hear them, because he's drowning in the touches, the kisses, his own inability to disobey the command from earlier — _don't move_ — and his vision is blurring. He's dimly aware of his own moans, tries to keep the noise down, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut if only to keep the tears at bay that suddenly threaten to overwhelm him.

 _Fuck_.

Lorene moves out from behind him, slides down his side, her hard nipples brushing his arm and causing her to shudder. Her voice is in André's ears and still he can't make out what she's really saying but it sounds an awful lot like _you're safe_.

Jev chooses that moment to really go at this in earnest, taking André deep into his mouth, so that André's dick is hitting the back of Jev's throat. Once again, Jev surprises André and does it again. And again, further until his nose hits the flat of André's stomach. André can feel the orgasm coming, and for some reason, so can Jev, because he moves back to kiss the tip of André's dick and strokes him roughly. When his orgasm hits, André can't help but press his face to the side, into Lorene's neck or hair or face or whatever, not that he cares, because he can clearly feel Jev's lips loosely around his dick as he catches André's cum in his mouth.

André's breath returns, his heartbeat still drumming in his ears, and when he opens his eyes, there's Jev hovering over Lorene for a kiss that begins with their tongues and has Lorene moaning.

"You taste so good," she says, and she's looking at André when she does.

"He does," Jev agrees, his voice hoarse, and then they're both looking at André in a way that makes all the heat crawl up from his dick to his face. "Better than I could have imagined."

And then Jev is kissing André, slowly and lazily, crawling over his body to mold himself to the other side of him, his erection poking André's hip. From his other side, Lorene reaches over, nuzzling André's neck and curling her fingers around Jev's dick. She strokes him slowly, but it doesn't take much for him to come, his breath hot in André's mouth.

André feels like he's in a cocoon, all wrapped up between two bodies, and the heat and the satisfaction make him sleepy. Through the fog of his brain, he's aware of Jev getting up and returning, cleaning his own cum from André's skin, of Lorene stroking his hair and placing little kisses on his shoulder.

There are still four hands on him, when sleep overtakes him.

***

It's not a Parisian breeze or the horn of a car that wakes André the next time. Morning light shines through the cracks in the curtains that someone — not André — had drawn shut last night. He's not quite sure what startled him, until he hears the click of the door and slow footsteps.

It's only then that he realizes Lorene still draped to his side, the side facing the door, and — shit, is she …? No, she's not naked. Her nightgown is draped delicately over her and her lower body is covered by the sheets.

And over her shoulder, Charlie is looking at André with big eyes.

He has no explanation.

Conscious thought creeps into his mind, and he realizes that on his other side, there's Jev snoring softly. And then there's him, half naked but thankfully not fully naked underneath the sheets — _someone_ must have taken care of that, too. If Charlie were to ask what was going on, André would have no idea how to respond.

But Charlie doesn't ask.

Lorene murmurs in her sleep, or maybe not in her sleep, because she's saying Charlie's name and scooting away from André a little bit. Yes, good, show the girl that her mother did not do anything weird with Uncle Dré last night. Show the girl, that … _she can crawl into bed with them?_

Because that's what Charlie is doing now, hopping over her mom like she's done this thousands of times before and then filling up the small space Lorene just made. She's cuddling up to André, pressing a stuffed animal to his chest, and while André feels like a deer caught in headlights, she finds a comfortable position and closes her eyes.

"She does that sometimes," Jev murmurs into André's ear. "Gives us another hour or two of sleep. Take it while you can. She's going to want to play with you later."

André doesn't think he can sleep like this. Not with Jev at his back, morning wood poking his butt, or with Lorene on the other side, sighing softly and nodding as if she'd heard what Jev had said and agreed with it. Certainly not with Charlie, pressed somewhere between the three of them, already back to sleep.

But for some reason, he does sleep.


End file.
